Dragon's Blood
by hindsight404
Summary: Vidar is the Dragonborn and Lydia is his dutiful housecarl. She finds him unorthodox and strange, unlike any other Nord she has met. As he sets out to fulfill his destiny Lydia discovers things about him...and herself. Lydia's POV, not always canon.
1. Seven Thousand Steps

This is a series that I have had sitting on my computer since I played Skyrim the first time, so many years ago. I have now finally decided to upload it. The chapters are short, but I hope it's enjoyable. Review if you feel so led.

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><p>Seven Thousand Steps<p>

Despite the fire of her Nord blood, Lydia was freezing. She had never felt so cold in her life. No matter if she crossed her arms over her chest to trap in the heat, or layered herself with furs, or pressed herself as close to the hot orange flames, she was cold to her very bones. Lydia had never noticed the cold before, but here up on this godsforsaken mountain she was very cold.

Her traveling companion – a fellow Nord – had ventured off to find some dinner. As if anything would be living up in this retched climate. Could anything even survive? If a Nord, whose blood defied the freezing temperatures of perpetual winter, was cold, could anything else?

"It's not much," said a voice approaching from the rear guard. Lydia instantly recognized the voice as the one belonging to her companion. The Nord passed her and squatted next to the fire with two small rabbits held in one hand. "But it's better than nothing."

To that she agreed. Food meant energy, and energy meant heat. She would kill to have a big pot of beef and potato stew in front of her. At least the thought of it brought warm memories to her heart.

"I didn't even think anything could survive up here," she said, keeping her mouth tight so as to prevent her teeth from chattering.

"Nor I, but I would venture a guess that the animals of Skyrim have what we Nords have. A resistance to the cold."

Lydia laughed mirthlessly. "Well, I, sir, have been freezing ass off ever since we ventured up this damned mountain."

Vidar chuckled in response as he began to prepare the rabbits for skewering.

"I asked you if you wanted to go with me on this trip. You said yes, and you could have said no."

"It is a housecarl's duty to her thane to do whatever he asks."

"Even if it's going to the coldest, most forsaken mountain in Skyrim?"

"Whatever he asks," she repeated.

Vidar shook his head. "Your sense of duty is commendable, Lydia, and also quite…ludicrous."

A gust of wind swept up over the ridge and blew a fresh blast of icy cold air against Lydia. She shivered, tightened her furs about her, and didn't reply.

Vidar understood her silence and continued his preparations for their dinner. He dug into his pack and pulled out a salt pile that he had conjured up from a barrel outside a house in Ivarstead. She thanked Talos that he'd had the vigilance to bring such provisions.

By the time the rabbits were thoroughly cooked – the meat tender and juicy – Lydia was nearly doubled over trying to conserve heat. She ate in that position, and even after she was done, she was still incapacitated by the cold. Vidar grew concerned watching her, so he decided to intervene.

"Lydia, does you being my housecarl come with any restrictions?"

Her head popped up. She shook her head with chattering teeth.

Vidar nodded. He stood and walked over Lydia's side of the fire, where he sat down next to her.

"Then, as housecarl, I think it is your duty to _let me keep you warm_."

Her eyes snapped over to him and there was a confused, guarded expression on her face. At least he hadn't asked her to take her clothes off so they could "conserve body heat."

"I just want to keep you warm," he further explained, "and I know you're too damn stubborn to ask me to do it, so I order you."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Lydia…" he spoke warningly.

The Nord woman relented, unleashing her arms from their tight grip around her midsection and latched them onto Vidar's waist. He pulled a falling fur blanket up back around her shoulders and then twined his own arms around her. Warmth seeped into her chilly bones and she suddenly felt less alone in the world.

She was his only companion, his only housecarl. He couldn't let her die in the cold. She refused to die in the cold.


	2. Solitude

This is a series that I have had sitting on my computer since I played Skyrim the first time, so many years ago. I have now finally decided to upload it. The chapters are short, but I hope it's enjoyable. Review if you feel so led.

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><p>Solitude<p>

"You're planning on joining the Legion?" she asked him, grabbing onto his arm.

He pulled his arm away and looked back into her steel eyes with his bright blues, a flame of determination flickering within their depths.

"Yes, I am. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Many, in fact," she sighed, sitting back on her right hip and crossing her arms. "What about the Greybeards? Daphne? Damn it, Vidar, even the thane of Morthal is asking for your help and all you're doing is putting it off so that you can join the Legion?"

Vidar took a step back. He squinted at her.

"I doubt that those are your only problems with the idea."

He was right. Lydia hated the Empire.

"You're a Nord. Don't you believe in what Ulfric stands for? For the sovereignty of Skyrim? The Thalmor pull the Empire's strings! They've outlawed the worship of Talos! I thought that as a Nord—"

"That I would understand? I do. I hate the Thalmor just as much as you, and I pray to Talos daily that they are stricken down. But what I will not stand for is a man who degrades the people of Tamriel based on race."

Vidar shook his head angrily and began walking again towards the entrance of Castle Dour. Over his shoulder, he said, "Skyrim has more to gain by joining the Empire than it does by separating from it."

Anger blazed like an inferno in the pit of Lydia's soul. The man was infuriating. How could he even call himself a Nord? A true Nord would join Ulfric and his rebellion, not bend the knee to the Empire and its Thalmor puppeteers. After he entered the castle, Lydia was half-tempted not to follow him. She thought of the reasons why she should and the list was longer. He was, after all, her thane. She had sworn to him that she would do whatever he asked and follow him wherever he went.

So she pushed aside her prejudices and stepped into the stone monolith of Castle Dour.


	3. Jorrvaskr

This is a series that I have had sitting on my computer since I played Skyrim the first time, so many years ago. I have now finally decided to upload it. The chapters are short, but I hope it's enjoyable. Review if you feel so led.

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><p>Jorrvaskr<p>

"I think the Huntress has noticed the amulet you wear," said Lydia nonchalantly when Vidar took a seat next to her at the table. "She stares at you like a predator watches its prey."

"She stares at everyone like that. That's why they call her the Huntress."

Vidar sipped from his mug before diving into his food. Lydia was amazed by the quantity of food the man consumed. His newly-acquired wolf's blood had its adverse effects, she supposed; sleepless nights, voracious appetites, cursed to run the Fields of Hircine forever…

"Do the others know?"

"You mean Njada and Torvar and the others?" He shook his head. "No. Only the Circle. And you."

"What I can't believe is that you willingly accepted the offer," Lydia snipped. Her food was cold now and she had no interest in eating anymore.

"You always find a way to disapprove of my choices, Lydia."

"Yes, because they're stupid. Do you know what happens to your soul now that you're a—"

He grabbed onto her leg and stared at her hard. "Careful what you say, Lydia. There are others in this room who would not be happy if you finished that sentence."

"What does it matter? Why can't people know?"

"It is a sacred oath. They would kill you if they found out that you knew."

"You mean… They don't know that I know?"

"Like I said, they would kill you… People beyond the Circle are not allowed to know. It is punishable by death. And I could not stand the thought of losing you."

He let go of her leg and resumed eating, apparently ending the discussion as well.


	4. Riverwood

This is a series that I have had sitting on my computer since I played Skyrim the first time, so many years ago. I have now finally decided to upload it. The chapters are short, but I hope it's enjoyable. Review if you feel so led.

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><p>Riverwood<p>

"Why are you wearing that silly amulet, my thane?"

"Certainly not because it makes me looks better," Vidar quipped, grabbing onto the amulet and pushing it back down the neck hole of his armor.

"That's an amulet of Mara."

"How very observant of you, Lydia."

"It's just that people only wear the amulet if they are looking to be married."

"Aye."

"Hoping to catch Aela's eye?"

He laughed. "Lydia, Aela is the last woman on this earth that I want to be eternally bound to."

"You're always together, going off and having your silly werewolf adventures. How am I supposed to know what does and doesn't happen?"

"Aela has asked me to help her with a sensitive issue. That's all."

"_Sensitive_, no doubt. I bet she howls to the moon and back for you."

Vidar's face turned upward in disgust. "I'm not even going to grant that statement the honor of a retort."

He stomped off, probably to go find out what was taking Daphne and Esbern so long.


	5. Serpent's Bluff Redoubt

This is a series that I have had sitting on my computer since I played Skyrim the first time, so many years ago. I have now finally decided to upload it. The chapters are short, but I hope it's enjoyable. Review if you feel so led.

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><p>Serpent's Bluff Redoubt<p>

"Lydia, watch out!" Vidar yelled.

She didn't have time to turn around. So she waited for the blow instead. She was surprised when rather than feeling the dragon's claws rip through her armor, she was met with the impact of Vidar's bulk crashing into her. He pushed her to the ground, narrowly dodging the elder dragon's attack.

Vidar shot to his feet and bellowed, "_YOL TOOR!_" The elder dragon reared in pain as Vidar's breath turned to fire, singeing dragon flesh. With the creature weakened and cringing, Vidar faced it head-on, shield and sword in hand. The fury of the Nine came over him and with a final blow, the elder dragon crumbled to his feet.

Lydia found her feet again but had been too stunned to react. Vidar closed his eyes and bowed his head, allowing the dragon's soul to be absorbed within his body. It seemed a sacred act to him.

Lydia had seen Vidar kill many dragons before, but somehow this was different. To her, it was. Not just the serene way in which he allowed himself to possess the dragon's soul, but in the way he had placed himself in harm's way to keep her from danger. It angered her – she could take care of herself! – and yet it also interested her. It was her job to protect her thane, not the other way around. To him, she should be disposable, replaceable. He had four other housecarls at his disposal, but he treated her the best of them all.

It unnerved her terribly.

When the ethereal rush of wind died down Vidar turned to Lydia.

"Are you all right?" he asked her, moving towards her, sheathing his sword.

"I can take care of myself," she snapped. She turned away, suddenly feeling a burst of warmth in her cheeks.

What in Talos' name was wrong with her?


	6. Sky Haven Temple

This is a series that I have had sitting on my computer since I played Skyrim the first time, so many years ago. I have now finally decided to upload it. The chapters are short, but I hope it's enjoyable. Review if you feel so led.

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><p>Sky Haven Temple<p>

After deciphering the mural and pillaging the grounds for armor and weapons, Vidar told Lydia to get some rest. The four of them – Daphne, Esbern, Vidar, and Lydia – ate a modest meal from the leftover supplies Vidar had packed for the journey. They all fell asleep in the dreary quarters later on, but Lydia awoke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.

Right before she woke up, she saw the ugly head of the elder dragon rear back, his maw open, and a torrent flames unleash upon Vidar's helpless figure. She didn't know what happened after that, because as soon as the flames consumed him, she awoke. She swung her legs over the side of the rickety old cot and rubbed her face.

Gods, what was happening to her? Was she actually starting to think that she was in love with Vidar? It was so…stupid, on so many levels. Why would he ever love _her_? She was no one. A housecarl. And he was…_someone_. More than someone. He was the Dragonborn of legend, the dovakhiin of old…

Lydia decided she needed some fresh air, so she quietly slipped out of the quarters and padded swiftly up the stairs to the giant doors leading to the outside training area. She tugged them open and was hit by a blast of wonderful spring air. She crossed her arms and continued out into the courtyard.

She looked up at the structures surrounding her; the doorways, the training ground coverings, the gazebo… The Avvars were long lost, but their beauty still remained.

The breeze tugged her hair and chilled her skin, but she clung more tightly to herself, letting her Nord blood warm her. She didn't want to return to the world of dreams. Not yet.

"Lydia?"

She turned immediately towards the doorway, where stood Vidar. He looked like a coiled sabre cat, ready to pounce at any sign of danger, and yet his face reflected a calm and understanding look; brow furrowed in curiosity and care, eyes swirling with wonder. He wore only a pair of trousers and that stupid amulet of Mara – he must have forgotten to take it off; his feet were bare and his chest as well, and Lydia had to admit to herself that her fellow Nord was not a terrible sight to look at. Rather, he was very pleasing to the eye.

She pinched herself to snap out of it, to remind herself of her place in his life. She was his housecarl. Nothing more.

"Are you okay?" he asked, walking slowly down the steps towards her.

"Perfectly fine," she pronounced, hugging herself tighter. She realized then that the only thing she wore was her linen tunic, having removed her trousers and smallclothes for bedtime comfort. She cursed herself. At least it covered past her buttocks.

"You were screaming inside."

"I was?"

"Daphne woke up too, but Esbern's still asleep. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

Vidar shook his head. "You know, I'm here for you if you want to talk."

Lydia only nodded.

Vidar sighed. He continued walking towards her. Just as he reached her he turned away and stared out over the darkened view of the mountain range beyond. Lydia looked with him at the blazing half-moon highlighting the landscape, setting blue and silver shadows dancing.

"When I had bad dreams, my father used to hold me and sing songs to me while sitting by the fireplace."

Lydia said nothing. She didn't want to tell him that she'd dreamed about him, that she saw his death at the hands of the elder dragon, and that it had scared her.

"My dreams consisted mostly of monsters hiding under my bed trying to eat me in the middle of the night, but no matter the hour or the time, my father was always there to comfort me."

She nodded again.

"Lydia…what's wrong? This isn't the first time that this has happened."

She wanted to tell him. Her stomach churned. _Kynareth, keep me strong, she prayed! Mara, Dibella, take these feelings away from me, lest I betray myself to this man!_

Then the words tumbled from her mouth, as if the gods had decided to plot against her.

"Ever since we fought that dragon at Serpent's Bluff, in my dreams I've seen it killing you a thousand different ways and I can only sit and watch in horror."

He looked at her. She heard the sharp intake of breath that denoted his surprise. But instead of angering him or making him flee from her – as she thought confessing such things would – he turned towards her, grabbed her hands in his, and then lifted her chin so she could look in her eyes.

"They are only dreams, Lydia."  
>She swallowed hard. "I know, but sometimes they seem so real."<p>

"And why does it distress you enough to leave your bed in the middle of the night to seek solace outside?"

Lydia knew he was fishing for answers, but she didn't want to give him those answers, so she shot back her own questions. She wanted answers too.

"Why did you leave your bed to follow me?" she asked, her throat dry.

He chuckled. "I care about you, Lydia, and I wanted to make sure you were safe."

"And what would Aela think about you following me out of bed to comfort me?"

"I don't care what Aela thinks," he said angrily. "I thought I made that clear. I guess I'm no good at this. I've only been wearing this stupid thing because I wanted _you _to notice!" He ripped the amulet from his chest and threw it on the ground. Without another word his lips descended upon hers.

She willed her body to pull away, to stop, to not return his embrace or touches, but it seemed her body craved what her mind objected. In her mind there were a hundred different reasons why she shouldn't return his kiss. But they all failed to stop her. She returned the kiss with just as much passion as he, wrapping her arms about his neck and threading her fingers into his hair.

He pulled away suddenly, opened his eyes, and then said, "I've been waiting for this."

"Shut up," she ordered and pulled him back to her.

Before she knew it, her back was against the cool surface of the training structure His tongue plunged into her mouth, dueling with her own. Lydia didn't want to stop.

But Vidar pulled away again.

"Are you sure about this, Lydia? It's not just lust, is it?"

That killed the mood.

Lydia slackened her hold on him. Gods, Vidar was an excellent kisser. His body was pleasing. She had no reason to complain about his physical appearance. Certainly, he was desirable, but she knew what he was really asking.

"You don't exactly seem to care about me."

Shit.

Her hands trembled as she lowered them to his chest. She couldn't even look at his face. "I…I've come to care… It hasn't been easy. I'll admit that when you started wearing the amulet I honestly thought you wore it for Aela, or at least Rikke. And I was jealous… We…we talked about so many things and I thought it was a betrayal, but you were just trying to woo me and I'm so thickheaded that I didn't see it… But, I don't know if I can give you what you really want. At least, not right now."

"What do you mean?" he breathed, pressing his forehead to hers, raising her eyes to his.

His hands knotted into her shirt, resting on her hips. A draft rose up and gently caressed her bare bottom, making it harder to focus on what she wanted to say.

"I care… I really do. But if you're like everything else in my life, you'll be here for a while and then gone the next moment. I don't know if I can handle that."

"You're afraid that I'll leave you like Roth?"

Lydia nodded. Like her parents. Like her sister. Her aunt and uncle. Roth. The countless others.

"What will it take to convince you that you're the one I want to be with forever?"

She shrugged. "Wearing that amulet for another month," she laughed.

He laughed with her. "I'd do it gladly. Whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm not leaving, Lydia."

She couldn't help herself. She was overcome with emotion and no words to express it, so she leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips. He gently kissed her back.

"I'm not going anywhere," Vidar reassured her, touching her cheek.


	7. The Lover Stone

This is a series that I have had sitting on my computer since I played Skyrim the first time, so many years ago. I have now finally decided to upload it. The chapters are short, but I hope it's enjoyable. Review if you feel so led. **Warning, there will be semi-smut ahead.****  
><strong>

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><p>The Lover Stone<p>

"They say that this place is enchanted."

Vidar set his pack down into the grass beneath one of the pillars. He stepped towards the central stone, talking as he walked.

"All who accept the blessings of this stone obtain the ability to learn skills faster and perform tasks at a quicker rate."

"We walked all that way, faced all those Forsworn – and that damn sabre cat – for this? A stone?"

The whole thing seemed silly to Lydia. Blessings from stones? Learning skills quicker? It was the stuff from children's stories. Mystical hogwash. But so was the return of dragons and Alduin, she reminded herself

Vidar glanced back at her. "You should know by now after traveling with me that there's more here than what meets the eye. Would it kill you to have a little faith, my dear Lydia?"

The Nord woman rolled her eyes and let her pack fall into the grass. Meanwhile she looked around to find a place for her bedroll. A flickering of light caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She turned only to find Vidar wrapped in tendrils of blue light, each tendril caressing an aspect of his body, twining and twisting above his head again to disappear into the night sky. It was much like the way that he absorbed dragon souls.

She stood there admiring the man for a moment. Lydia appreciated him, his honesty, his faith, his sense of duty – a commonality shared between that she had not suspected he possessed – his strength, humility, courage… The list went on and on in her head. How could she not admire Vidar? Aside from the fact that he supported the Empire occupation in Skyrim, but she had grown accustomed to the idea over the months they'd been traveling together. He was the epitome of a great man, the kind of man that any real leader should be; he was an exemplar, like Ysgrammor, to be followed and believed in. And by the Nine, ever since he confessed his love for her, she had to admit that there was something in her that felt the same way.

Vidar turned and Lydia looked away, back to her pack in order to search for her bedroll. There was a warm flush in her cheeks from just thinking about Vidar like that, and she felt so childish and stupid.

Vidar grabbed his axe from his pack and headed away from the stone, presumably to find firewood. Their regular routine of setting camp had changed a little after his confession at Sky Haven; not by much, but Lydia was interested to see if tonight would be any different.

Lydia refused to believe the upgrading qualities of the Lover Stone, but that didn't mean she refused to believe in the power that reigned over it. Dibella's power, particularly in the Reach where her temple resided, had been rumored to linger in special places, places such as the Lover Stone. Lydia wondered if her Dragonborn would be immune to the goddess's power or not. Lydia certainly wasn't, if her thoughts were any reflection.

She did some preparation for their supper and by the time everything was ready to be cooked, Vidar returned with enough wood for the fire. He set it up and got it going, patiently stoking the flames. Once the fire roared comfortably, Lydia went to work making the meal. Vidar sat beside her silently cleaning their armor and sharpening their weapons.

Once supper was ready, they ate together and chatted about the day's adventures. Vidar told her that their next stop was Markarth. He explained some things about business, and then they just ended up talking. They talked about everything they could think of – opinions, stories, ideas, and such – for several hours until the moon was high over the Lover Stone.

Vidar then began to clean up their meal and prepare for the night.

"Who's taking watch first?" Lydia asked.

"It depends," he said as he laid his bedroll next to hers and sat down.

"On what?"

"Several things."

Lydia shook her head at him and prepared for bed, setting her sword and shield against her pack, just within reach should she need either of them. Once everything was in place, she turned back around to find Vidar watching her.

"What?" she demanded.

"You're beautiful," he said, grinning.

Lydia scoffed and sat down beside him on her bedroll. "Compared to other women, I think I look rather plain."

"Ah, well you don't look at yourself the way I look at you. I think you're beautiful."

"Flatterer."

He chuckled, and then reached over to grab her hand. He kissed her knuckles. Lydia's stomach roiled into knots and it wasn't because of the mutton stew. Vidar's eyes searched hers. After a while, he smiled at her and then pulled her into his lap.

"Vidar!" she squealed, protesting against him but ultimately losing. He was much stronger than her. And she secretly liked the attention he gave her.

Once she was situated comfortably straddling his lap, Vidar wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. This was how they spent their nights since the Temple. Though usually, Vidar was much more tactful. He usually coaxed her into lengthy sessions of kissing and touching, or she would cuddle up to him; but she didn't mind his brusqueness so much tonight. Not with Dibella watching over them.

His tongue teased her mouth and she was having a hard time catching her breath. Vidar caught on, so his lips trailed down her neck, where he kissed and sucked near her hairline. Lydia rolled her head back to let him continue. She tightened her hold around his body, feeling warmth pool in between her legs as her desire grew.

Finally she grew tired of him kissing her neck, so she slipped her hand down to his cheek and lifted his face towards hers. He looked up at her through half-closed eyes. Lydia bent forward and initiated the kiss. It was a slow, tender kiss – the kind that sent chills down her arms and heat into her cheeks. Vidar's rough hands touched her face and the back of her neck and he gently laid her down into his bedroll, his body on top of hers. Lydia's feet rested on the ground on either side of his long body, her legs tented at the knees..

She urged his hands to move down her body, guiding them south to her place of desire. With a sharp intake of breath, his hand slipped into her trousers.

"Cold hands," she murmured amidst the heat of the moment.

Vidar's fingers slithered further downward and pressed aside her smalls. She gasped again when they entered her sex. He proceeded to pleasure her with his hand, using varying degrees of pressure and application. Towards the end, she was mewling and moaning, begging him to finish her. With one last searing kiss and thrust of his fingers, a burst of white flashed across her eyes and every muscle in her body slackened.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked.

"Shut up and come here," she said, grabbing him and pinning him beneath her.


	8. Silver-Blood Inn

This is a series that I have had sitting on my computer since I played Skyrim the first time, so many years ago. I have now finally decided to upload it. The chapters are short, but I hope it's enjoyable. Review if you feel so led.

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><p>Silver-Blood Inn<p>

Where was he? Lydia raged. He'd been gone for five days. How hard was it to return to a single scared man at a temple and hand over some evidence? Simple, right, she thought? No. He had not returned as soon as she thought he would.

She should have gone with him. But she was tired. He demanded her to go back to the inn and get some rest. And she'd gone, like a fool. And now he was nowhere to be found.

Lydia went to the guards and was brushed off. She even threw out Vidar's name, said that she was his housecarl, and she was still blown off. She attempted to go to the jarl. He wouldn't see her. It was like there was a conspiracy against her or something!

She would have contacted the Thieves Guild in Markarth, but she had no clue how to find them. She didn't want to worry the Companions, so she tried to contact the Legion with no luck. While the Empire controlled the Reach, there was no way the Legion was going to send in agents and risk further disputes with the Reachmen. They'd suffered enough already.

And so she sat in her room, waiting. Waiting like a silly little girl.

She was so angry with him!

"You said you'd never leave me," Lydia whispered to the reflection on her shield, as if she were talking to Vidar.

If he was dead, as she assumed he was… He would just be one more person in her life to make a promise and fail to keep it, just another person to break her heart, just another person to leave her.

Lydia decided then that if he didn't show up tomorrow she would pack her bags and head back to Whiterun. Maybe someday he'd return to Breezehome. Maybe someday, if he was not dead, he'd come back to her.


	9. Breezehome

This is a series that I have had sitting on my computer since I played Skyrim the first time, so many years ago. I have now finally decided to upload it. The chapters are short, but I hope it's enjoyable. **There is smut ahead. You have been warned. **It's not perfect and I know that, but I would appreciate a critique or review.

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><p>Breezehome<p>

She'd swept the floors, dusted the tables and cupboards, set traps for the mice, and fixed the leak in the roof. Lydia had decided to keep everything just the way it was, like Vidar would return home at any moment. It was a false hope, but Lydia held onto it anyways.

As his former housecarl, it was her duty to maintain his property. He had a year before the Jarl sold the property and assigned her to a new thane.

It had been two months.

When she returned to Whiterun without him, she tried to pretend that it was just like he had sent her home. She'd created an entire scenario: Aela had asked Vidar to go off on some wild adventure with her and so he politely asked Lydia to return to Whiterun and wait for him; he'd promised to be back in a week.

But then a week turned into two. Then three. Then a month. And then another month. Still, he hadn't returned.

To keep herself busy, Lydia returned to the Jarl and asked him for assignments within the city. He referred her to the Commander, who had then tasked her with training new recruits, helping the guards settle disputes, and even sometimes marching out with the troops to assist when a village in the hold was attacked.

She never enlisted though. Her duty was to the Jarl and whatever he asked of her.

At present, Lydia sat by the fire watching the flames flicker. She poked the logs. She sipped her mead. She nibbled at her bread. Soon, she would go upstairs to her room and try to fall asleep. And the dreams would return.

They'd gotten worse, especially after Vidar didn't come back. Her dream with the elder dragon… Before, she didn't see the ending, but now she did. Fire consumed him. The dragon crushed him. The dragon ate him. Sliced him. Threw him from the cliff. Every ending possible, she witnessed in her dreams.

She thought about her drinking herself to Oblivion to avoid the dreams tonight. Just as she was about to open a third bottle, the door made a curious noise. Her head snapped over in its direction.

"What the…"

The door opened and in stumbled a bedraggled, tired man, with dark lines on his cheeks and the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was Vidar.

She didn't believe it. Was he a ghost, a ghoul, a figment of her imagination?

The Vidar-like man looked towards the fire, apparently shocked that his home was occupied, and then saw Lydia.

And then she believed that it was truly Vidar.

"Lydia?"

She rose to her feet and crossed the room to the vestibule where he stood. He appeared more haggard, like steel bent beneath the stress of a great weight. He stared at her with his azure-blue eyes – bright, earnest, loving.

She punched him square across the jaw. He yelped and pressed a hand to the spot.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"Welcome home, my thane," she said in her casual monotone. Then she explained. "That was for leaving me in Markarth. I thought you were dead. I thought you left me."

Then she grabbed onto him and kissed him hard, biting his lips and grasping onto his hair.

"And that's because I missed you so damn much."

"Lydia, I'm so sorry. I can't even tell you just how sorry I am."

"What happened to you?" she asked.

Vidar grunted and began moving into the house. Lydia grabbed his shield for him and took his sword and belt when he handed them to her.

"They took me to Cidhna Mine. The guards were in on a conspiracy hatched by the Forsworn leader. The King in Rags."

"Madanach? But—"

"He was very connected, even from his little prison. The whole conspiracy and everything I did was just an endless stupid chase. All for nothing, hardly. I met Madanach, you know, in the mine."

Lydia assisted Vidar to the kitchen table, where she helped him remove his armor.

"What was he like?"

"An idealist, a liar, a sociopath; all the things that make for a good rebel leader. He claims that Skyrim was stolen from the Forsworn."

Lydia guffawed. "The Forsworn did it to themselves, the bastards."

"Whatever the case, he believed in his cause. I spent weeks listening to his radicalism. And then I killed him and escaped."

"Just like that?" she asked, placing his armor on the stand next to his enchanting table.

He laughed. "Not as easy as it sounds. I promise." He stretched. "And after I got out, Thonar Silver-Blood thanked me for killing the madman. Gave me back my belongings and sent me on my merry way."

"So what took you so damn long to get back?"

"I went back to the temple to see if Daphne and Esbern could tell me anything else about the wall. They said that I should go see the Greybeards and talk to them about defeating Alduin."

Vidar then launched into a story about how he ventured even further up High Hrothgar to the Throat of the World, where he met Paarthurnax, an ancient dragon from Alduin's day. The key to defeating Alduin was using a Shout called the 'Dragonrend'. Arnegir, Vidar's Greybeard mentor, told him he needed to find an Elder Scroll and sent him off to the College of Winterhold. But Vidar was tired, so he stayed at High Hrothgar, then decided that a trip to Winterhold without his housecarl would be no fun at all.

"So I came back." He rested a hand on her thigh. "I'm sorry I didn't come back sooner, or tell you where I was. I should have. I promised I wouldn't leave you and I did. If you decide to hate me, I'll live with it, but I just want your forgiveness. Will you forgive me?"

Lydia sat in shock. Did such a man really exist in this world?

"I'm just glad you're alive," she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

"So you forgive me?"

"You'll have to make up for it," Lydia replied coyly.

Vidar was oblivious.

"What do you want me to do?"

She didn't even hesitate. "I want you to make love to me." She pressed a hand against his heart and said, "I want to know that you are alive and that you won't leave me again."

He threaded his hand in her hair and tipped her head back so he could look into her eyes. "I won't leave you again, Lydia. I love you."

She sat up and pressed her lips to his. He kissed her back, spreading her lips with his tongue. Her heart quickened as his other hand moved to her hip. Lydia's eyes closed and she let the sweet bliss of being in Vidar's arms fall over her.

He made to rise and he pulled her with him. She was slightly confused. What was he doing? He touched her face gently, took her hand in his, and then separated their lips. "Come with me," he said huskily.

She trembled at the power and rawness of his voice. It was an invitation and a command. He was the only man to ever hold both over her.

Vidar led her upstairs, their fingers laced together, and then into his bedroom. He didn't bother to close the door. Instead, he focused his attention on Lydia.

"I haven't done this in a while," she told him, almost nervously. She trembled with anticipation.

"Me neither. Don't worry," he reassured her, caressing her arms as he drew her in against him. "I'll be gentle."

They slowly undressed each other; first removing his tunic, then removing her breastplate and setting it aside. When his tunic lifted over his head, her eyes fell on his muscled torso. There was a new line of scar tissue just above his fourth abdominal muscle. She touched it delicately with a finger.

"Madanach," he whispered. "A shiv. Right before I killed him."

Lydia bent to one knee so she could kiss the scar and then followed the line upward, where she placed dozens more kisses upon his many other scars. Finally she stood to her feet again and he placed a hand at her neck and kissed her passionately.

Her tunic fell to the floor. His hands rose to touch her breasts, thumbs dusting over her nipples. She shuddered at his light touch, feeling her desire for him warm her center. Her fingers unlaced his belt and trousers. Vidar stepped out of his greaves, then tugged at her own trousers before freeing them and sliding them down her hips.

She could feel the heat of his arousal against her lower abdomen as he lowered her to his bed, her fingers meanwhile attempting to rid him of his smalls. Lydia had never desired a man so much as she desired Vidar.

Once free, he didn't take her immediately as she expected, but took his time by letting his hands and lips roam over her body.

He looked like a man savoring the moment. Vidar's hands touched every inch of her skin, from her long, strong thighs to her muscled calves, up her taut abdomen, lingering around her breasts, over her shoulders and down her arms. He couldn't feel enough of her. He kissed her neck and bit her earlobe gently. He kissed down her throat, between her breasts and the valley of muscle to the place she desired him most. Vidar spread her legs and gently kissed the insides of her thighs, teasing her.

Lydia sat up on the bed and ran her fingers through his hair. Gods, it might have been a while for both of them, but he was filling her with dark desires that made everything feel fresh and new. Her head fell back in bliss when his fingers entered her and his thumb gently pressed against her clit. Then he removed his hand, much to her dismay. She watched as he slipped his wet fingers into his mouth and sucked. Her mouth fell open at the sight of it.

He said nothing as he rose up to kiss her, pressing her back into the bed. She tasted herself on his lips.

Vidar hovered above her, kissing her gently. He reached between their bodies with one hand, the other forearm braced beside her head, and pulled his length in between them. He didn't penetrate her, but slid himself between her dark wet curls and teased her further. Her legs spread on their own and her arms locked around him.

"Please," she whimpered, nuzzling his neck. "Please."

He set both forearms on either side of her head, making sure he didn't pin down her hair, and then moved his hips back far enough to angle his length at her entrance. They spent a sufficient amount of time on foreplay so she was as wet as a fish in a pond. With a whimper from her, he slipped inside her. He stopped and kissed her face to reassure her and then continued.

Lydia had been with men before, but none ever filled her the way Vidar did. Roth, who she thought she loved, didn't even complete her like this man. Roth was no one compared to Vidar. Vidar was everything to her now.

When he was fully inside her, he set a slow pace, allowing her to adjust and take in the pleasure he gave her. He bent forward and kissed her, still keeping his hips in a gentle rhythm. Lydia moaned and cooed with each thrust, whimpering when he hit that perfect spot. Her arms wrapped around his chest, her hands purchased on the muscles of his back.

Again and again, like a skilled lover, his thrusts landed her in a world of bliss until it came to a paramount. Her voice grew hoarse, her legs tightened around his hips, and her mouth fell open in a long moan. Vidar crouched into her, quickening his pace, and pushing her into bliss, until he met his end. He pulled out of her at the last moment, just as she climaxed, and spent himself on her lower abdomen.

Lydia didn't care. Her head was spinning, her body sagged into the bed, and all she wanted to do was kiss Vidar until her lips fell off.

Vidar reached over to the end table and grabbed a linen wrap. He cleaned his seed off her and then tossed the linen back onto the floor. He fell to her side and pulled her over to him so that they faced each other. He nuzzled her neck and sighed contently.

"I love you so much, Lydia," he murmured.

"I love you too."

He looked up and pecked her lips.

"I'm still going to Winterhold and I'd like you to come with me. Will you?"

"Of course," she said, smiling and cradling his cheek with her hand.

"And afterwards, I was hoping we could go to Riften."

"What would we do in Riften? Something with the Guild?"

He laughed and shook his head. He sat up on his elbow and touched her shoulder before kissing it.

"No, I was hoping that you would marry me, Lydia."

She sat there dumbfounded for a long moment. And then when she saw the seriousness in his expression she spoke.

"Where's your amulet of Mara?" she sassed. "As far as I know, you might've already gone to Riften and back and gotten married to some tart."

"I took it off after the Temple. Figured people would think I was still looking, but I'd already been spoken for. So, Lydia, will you marry me?"

"Yes," she laughed. "As brief as life in Skyrim can be, at least we'll have each other."

"Good." Vidar smiled and kissed her one more time. "And that's probably the sappiest thing you've ever said to me."

"And it's probably the only sappy thing you'll ever hear me say."


	10. Honeyside

This is a series that I have had sitting on my computer since I played Skyrim the first time, so many years ago. I have now finally decided to upload it. The chapters are short, but I hope it's enjoyable. Review if you feel so led. **More fluff than smut. Be warned.**

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><p>Honeyside<p>

"You look beautiful," Vidar told her as she entered the bedchamber.

Lydia wore only a short, sheer nightgown. She bathed earlier and her hair was completely free of braids and knots. She felt so naked. She laughed to herself. Indeed, she was naked.

"Gods, I feel awkward," she told him. "This flimsy thing doesn't suit a Nord woman. Where's my armor and fur? Damn it, where's my shield?" she asked, laughing as she walked closer to the bed.

He cracked a smile. "I'll be your shield."

Lydia stood between Vidar's legs at the edge of the bed. She rested a hand on his stubbled cheek.

"That's supposed to be my line. And you're missing the sword part."

"I am your sword and your shield?"

His arms closed around her waist but he continued to look up at her.

"Better," she sighed.

"Would you like to see my 'sword', wife?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Oh, Mara, that was awful," she chuckled. "Now stop talking so I can properly kiss you."

All that and more quickly followed.

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><p>I hope you enjoyed! That's all I have for now. Maybe in the future I will continue Vidar and Lydia's story, but not now. :) Thanks for reading.<p> 


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